Flipping Heck
by Yggdrasil'sRoots
Summary: In which Stiles is a girl, and a gymnast, and Derek is sort of smitten.
1. Chapter 1

_**Soooo, it didn't sit well with me that Stiles was only good for dialogue and sassiness, so I made her epic and ninja like.**_

_**Also, I really like girl Stiles. A lot. **_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own teen wolf. #firstworldproblems**_

She dusted her hands with chalk, and repeated the action with her feet, shifting to make sure she had a good grip on the floor. Then, just because she could, she bent right over and placed her hands flat on the ground, legs straight, enjoying the pleasant burn in muscles already loose from her workout.

Straightening up, she raised her hands above her head in the customary position, then lowered them to her side, before launching herself into a short run, and flinging herself into a triple twist somersault.

Landing perfectly, she grinned and raised her arms again, before lowering herself into a controlled handstand, and then pushing herself from her hands to her feet in one smooth movement.

Her coach pointed at the beam, and she smiled even wider, jumping nimbly on the launch pad and landing perfectly, feet grasping the narrow space carefully. She ran through her routine, taking her time, ensuring all her moves were swift, smooth, and technically perfect. She moved like water, flowing from one move to the next with no hesitation. When the time came for her dismount, she took a deep breath, steadied herself, then ran to the end of the beam and hurled herself off, executing a near perfect double front somersault with a half twist. Landing face towards the beam, she smirked, and wandered over to her bag, picking up her water bottle and took a huge swig, swallowing and panting slightly. Her coach gave her the go ahead to begin her warm down routine, and she did, making surely to properly take her time and give her muscles the correct treatment.

"I'm off, coach. See you tomorrow?" She said, pulling sweatpants on over her leotard.

"Yeah, five o'clock." He said. "You did good today, Stilinski. Keep it up." She grinned with pride and left, throwing her car keys in the air and catching them.

Heading for her Jeep, she whistled tunelessly, before shivering in the cool air and pulling a hoodie from her bag.

"Why are you wearing a leotard?" Stiles shrieked and flung her bag in the air, spinning around so fast it took a second or two for her vision to adjust.

"Erica?" The blonde girl grinned at her, and held out her bag. "What the hell, why did you sneak up on me like that?"

"It isn't my fault humans are practically deaf." The other teenager grinned and pointed at her again. "So, leotard, spill." Stiles sighed and pulled her hoodie on, unlocking her car and clambering in. Then she gestured for Erica to get in.

"You want me to drop you home or at Derek's?" Erica pinged the side of her leotard.

"Derek's. Stop stalling, tell me why you are wearing a leotard. And coming from the gym." Stiles mentally gathered her strength and started the car, pulling out of her spot and onto the road to Derek's new apartment. For most of the twenty minute ride, she kept quiet, then suddenly she was spilling words out.

"I do gymnastics." She blurted. Erica regarded her, brows furrowed in confusion.

"You? Do gymnastics?"

"No need to sound so surprised. I've done gymnastics since I was, like, five. My mom used to take me." She swiped at the indicator and steered the car onto Derek's driveway. "There you go. See you at school tomorrow?" Erica jumped out, and stared for a moment.

"Or you could come in? I mean, I'm planning on a movie marathon with Isaac and Derek?" Stiles considered for a minute. What could it hurt?

"Well, my dad is on a shift until tomorrow morning, so yeah, okay." Erica squealed in happiness and dragged Stiles up the driveway when she gracefully slid down from the Jeep.

"Derek! We're back!" Derek popped his head around the kitchen door.

"We?"

Stiles heartbeat stuttered. Derek was wearing a plaid shirt, and had a dish towel over one shoulder, with which he was drying a plate, and his growly face was strangely lacking in growlyness.

"Hey Der." The nickname slipped from her lips almost involuntarily. Erica gave her a look.

"Hey Stiles." He disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared, minus plate and dish towel. His face twisted into a confused expression. "Are you wearing a leotard?"

"Yep, but I'm going to go and change now bye!"

Distantly she heard Derek ask why she was wearing a leotard, and Erica reply 'Oh, Stiles can tell you', as she rushed into the bathroom, quickly stripped, and put her normal clothes back on.

Or she would have, had she not been with Lydia earlier in the day, and had Lydia not taken it upon herself to steal her normal clothes, and leave a low cut tank top and skinny jeans in their place.

She swore under her breath. She dithered momentarily and then swore again, yanking the clothes on. She glanced at her hair in the mirror, pulling the hair band out and letting her hair fall around her shoulders, brushing her back as she moved. She tucked it behind one ear, and packed all her things away, before returning to the living room.

Erica and Isaac had taken the floor, and Derek was sprawled on the couch, leaving a small gap for her to worm herself in. Which she promptly did. She could have sworn his gaze lingered on the way the jeans clung to her muscular thighs, but told herself she was mistaken.

"So, what are we watching?" She asked, desperate to keep the attention off herself. She didn't know why she had never told anyone that she did gymnastics, but it was something she usually kept close to her chest.

"Ah, stop trying to dodge it. Tell our dear leader why you came in wearing lycra." Erica smirked at her and Stiles scowled at her.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to." Derek nudged her with his elbow.

"Yes she does." Erica butted in.

Stiles knotted her hands in her lap.

"I do gymnastics." Derek's face morphed into one of surprise, and she squinted at the glint of red she thought she saw.

"Oh, that is so cool." Isaac eagerly wriggled around to face her, and propped his chin on her folded legs. "Can you do, like, somersaults and stuff?" She nodded. "Can you show us?" She glanced at Derek uncertainly.

"I don't think there's enough room in here?" She ventured hesitantly.

"How about the yard?" Erica volunteered. "It isn't dark yet, you could show us." She grinned evilly.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess?" Stiles mentally threw Erica into a pit of fire and watched her burn alive, cackling the entire time.

Isaac and Erica wooped and ran outside to the back yard. Derek and Stiles followed, the latter dragging her feet.

"You really don't have to if you don't want to." Derek muttered to her, his hot breath caressing the shell of her ear.

"I don't mind much. I just. Usually I don't tell people about it. I don't know why. Maybe because it was something I did with my mom." His eyes filled with understanding.

"I can get them to stop asking."

"No, it's fine, really." Stiles fastened her boots tightly, then wriggled her ankles to make sure she was getting enough support, and could still move properly. Sighing in resignation, she jogged to the edge of the treeline. She could see Isaac practically vibrating with excitement. He really was like an over grown puppy, she thought fondly, before taking several deep breaths and shuffling her feet.

Propelling herself into a sprint, she tipped her torso forwards and kicked her legs over herself, landing and fighting the impulse to finish in the proper position. She carried straight on running, before planting her hands and catapulted herself into a twist somersault, then a back flip, and dropped down into the splits in front of Derek.

"Ta da?" She said weakly. Erica and Isaac were giggling and applauding, begging her to do something else. Derek was watching impassively, expressionless in a way she knew he did on purpose.

"If someone throws me I can do something pretty cool." She said, gaining confidence. Erica elbowed Derek.

He jolted.

"Throw Stiles." He frowned. Stiles' stomach did a flip flop.

"Straight up or forwards?" He asked her.

"Up, please, sourwolf." She grinned, and he finally cracked a smile. He looped his fingers together, and she stepped into the cradle of his hands, balancing by gripping his shoulders tightly. He hoisted her up until his face was level with her thighs.

Forcing herself to ignore the way his breath felt through her jeans, she nodded at him.

"Don't forget to catch me, Der." He grinned, teeth sharp, and flung her straight up in the air, high.

She tipped her shoulder down, rolling over in the air and flipping as she spun, until she faced the ground, and could see Derek, arms open to receive her falling body. Turning gently in the air, she sighed with relief as she felt Derek's arms lock around her back and knees, strong fingers digging into her thighs. She looked up, shocked to see the familiar scarlet red of his alpha eyes.

"Derek?" He gave her leg a squeeze and then put her down gently.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" Jackson exclaimed, having just arrived, Danny and Lydia in tow.

"Hello to you too, son of Jack." She deflected, still giddy from her short flight. "How are you this fine day? Oh, yes, I'm great too, thank you. Oh yes I would like pizza, now that you mention it. Chorizo and chicken. Go, fly, collect, feed me!" She rambled until Derek's warm hand settled on her shoulder, somehow quelling the urge for words to pour out of her mouth.

"Stiles, that was freaking awesome!" Isaac exclaimed, swooping in to hug her, pulling her up onto tiptoes with his embrace. Tall people. She is surrounded with abnormally tall men.

"Thanks, puppy." She ruffled his hair, and he put her down, pouting at his nickname.

"How long have you been doing gymnastics?" Lydia hit the nail right on the head, as per usual.

"Since I was five. My mom used to take me." She smiled wryly. "No one knows, so it isn't just you guys. My dad knows, that's it. Not even Scott knows." She shrugged. "It's whatever."

"Do you compete?" Isaac asked.

"Yeah, I do, actually. I have a national competition this Saturday. It's why I haven't been around much. Training got kicked up a notch." She watched her friends carefully for their reaction. To her surprise it was Jackson who asked if they could come.

"I dunno, it just seems pretty cool, you know. So I was thinking, you know, we could give you a bit of support?" He scuffed the toe of his shoe in the dust. Stiles' grin spread across her face, and she leapt at Jackson and hung around his neck like a monkey for a moment, squealing into his neck loudly. All the werewolves flinched, but endured it, Derek smiling involuntarily at her enthusiasm.

"Now that that's settled, shall we go and watch Lord of The Rings now?" Lydia asked impatiently. Stiles released Jackson, and skipped inside, shaking her ass a little as she went.

Derek felt a sharp pain in his side as Erica elbowed him hard.

"Quit staring, wolf boy." She teased. He glowered, and followed his pups indoors, scooping up the popcorn from the kitchen, and nudging Isaac off the couch to settle on it himself, next to Stiles and Jackson, who had received place of honour on Stiles' other side. She patted the pair of them on the knees, and snuggled into both of them simultaneously, a feat which was difficult.

"My boys." She stole the popcorn from Derek, and crammed a handful in her mouth, complaining loudly when Erica nabbed the bowl from under her nose. She sighed in disgust, finishing her mouthful, and twisting to lean against Derek, who shifted so they were comfortable. She shoved her toes under Jackson's thigh, and poked Boyd in the side, who had just appeared.

"Hey big guy. You missed all the fun!" Boyd smiled.

"Watched from the roof."

"Creeper." Stiles shot at him playfully.

Lydia shushed them from her place as queen of the remote, lying half on Erica and Isaac.

They watched all three extended edition movies, and slept all through school the next day.

Stiles barely woke up in time for training.

_**There will definitely be more of this, but you might have to wait a bit for it. Depends what sort of mood I'm in to be perfectly honest.**_

_**Love you all, my lovelies!**_

_**G x**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I sort have no clue where I'm going with this chapter so you might have to bear with me, and I'm about ninety percent certain it's crap so I apologise for that.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**_

_**G x**_

Stiles was lounging on the sofa with Isaac's head pillowed on her flat stomach, one hand raking through his golden curls, and the other flicking the pages of her book that was resting against the crown of his head. They had gotten home from school a little while ago, and her coach's daughter had a recital at school, so training had been cancelled for the day. Her coach had extracted a strict promise that she would train a little after she had done her homework, but for now she was perfectly content to sit and snuggle with a warm body.

Isaac turned his head and pressed his face into her shirt, his warm breath puffing through the thin material. Stiles smiled at the sleeping boy, and turned the page of her book, immersing herself back into it quickly.

A short while later the smell of cinnamon reached her nose and she perked up, quelling the urge to spring up and steal the food being made in the kitchen. She shifted slightly, freezing when Isaac muttered nonsensical gibberish into her clothes.

"Excuse me!" She whispered. "Awesome wolfy chef person, whoever you are? I want cinnamon things. Help. Isaac's lying me." She waited, twitching in surprise when Derek poked his head out of the kitchen, and chuckled softly at the image the two teenagers made.

Isaac was drooling on Stiles, and Stiles was making a disgruntled face at him. Derek rushed to help, dressed in a plaid shirt and with a tea towel draped over his shoulder once more. Inner Stiles fanned herself as Derek neared the couch, but outer Stiles composed herself, and motioned at Derek to be quiet. She gestured fiercely at Isaac, and Derek made a show of tiptoeing towards them silently, smothering giggles as he went.

"Hey Stiles. You look comfy." He whispered, and grinned.

"Shut up and get your puppy off of me without waking him up." She whispered back. He grinned and slid Isaac carefully off her stomach, positioning him so he didn't crick his neck while he slept.

It was times like this that Stiles saw that Derek really did care. She leapt off the sofa carefully and tugged her shirt down where it had ridden up, not noticing the way Derek stared at her as she did.

She chivvied him into the kitchen, smiling at the dough resting on the counter.

"What are you making?" She asked him, toying with the hem of her shirt.

"Cinnamon twists." He moved to the counter and patted the dough, then picked up a piece of paper. "And...macaroons!" He gave the paper a little shake, and Stiles grinned widely.

"Those are my favourites!"

"I know." Before Stiles could quiz him on what he meant, he gave her the paper. It turned out to be a recipe.

"Want to help?"

They spent the next hour making macaroons, Derek telling Stiles off for eating the mixture when he wasn't looking, and Stiles telling him off for throwing flour at her. Luckily Jackson came in before it turned out into an all out war, and scowled at them, nicking a carton of milk, and then leaving again. When the macaroons and cinnamon twists were in the oven, they amiably cleared up, Derek washing and Stiles drying.

"I'm exhausted!" Stiles exclaimed after, slumping playfully against Derek's back. After a few moments of feeling his heartbeat against her chest, she pulled away reluctantly, only for Derek to catch her by the wrist and pull her into a proper hug. She relaxed into him, allowing him to hold her up and buried her face in his shoulder, the only part of him she could reach at her short height. A short time later, Derek mumbled something into her hair.

"What?"

"I said, don't you have training?" He settled his chin atop her head. She sighed, and muttered for a moment.

"Yeah." She said finally.

"I'll drive you if you want." He offered.

"You sure?" He nodded, and they separated, Stiles mentioning she need to grab her gym back, and Derek noting that since they would be there a while he would grab his own.

She clambered into the camaro after hugging Isaac goodbye, and immediately plugged her Ipod in to his sound system. He mock frowned at her as she switched on some Kasabian and started bobbing her head in time to the drums. He scowled.

"Shut up, I know you love it." His frown disappeared and he sang along with vigour.

When they reached the gym, she split off to go and change, and returned to find him sitting in his street clothes where she would be practising.

"I thought you were going to go and work out?" She said, already dusting her legs with chalk.

This time she didn't miss his gaze on her bare legs. "Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"They're just legs, sourwolf." He jerked in surprise.

"Sorry." He looked at the floor. Her heart twisted in her chest.

"Tell you what, to make it up to me, you can watch me flip around for a bit, yeah?" He nodded.

She made her way to the floor, stretching quickly before bending over and tumbling into a forward roll. She flipped herself into a handstand, a cartwheel and several somersaults, then launched into a series of high energy, high difficulty flips, rapidly making her way across the floor.

Finally finished, she settled into her end pose, drenched in sweat, and smiling.

"That was amazing." Derek told her seriously.

"Thanks." She blushed. "I'm just going to have a quick session on the bars, okay?"

"Bars?" She grinned and took his hand.

"Come with me."Stiles led him over to the uneven bars, and dug in her bag for the hand guards she used, and re-dusted her hands with chalk, before taking a running leap and jumping on the spring board, flying through the air, twisting and swinging from bar to bar and back again. When it came time for her to dismount, she executed a perfect double twist back flip.

"How..." Derek was flabbergasted.

"Practice, sourwolf." She pulled on a pair of sweatpants over her leotard and an old t shirt of Scott's that she had stolen a few years ago, and poked Derek in the ribs. He squirmed, and she giggled.

"Ticklish, Derek?" He shook his head adamantly, and wriggled again when she brushed her fingertips against his waist. "You are!"

"No, stop, please!" He gasped, taking several steps away.

"Okay, okay, truce." She raised her hands. "Now take me for food?" She pleaded. Derek sighed, but smiled and nodded.

They went to a diner down the road, and stayed for three hours.

The sheriff was not impressed.

At all.


End file.
